Taking a Stanza
The Holyground Highlander Forum Midweek Challenge
Archivistís Note: The stories and vignettes offered here from various Holyground Forumlanders have not been edited or changed other than having a spell-check performed and being reformatted for this website.
The Challenge by Leah CWPack
A Matter of Perspective by Ysanne
In the Spring A Young Manís Fancy Lightly Turns to Thoughts of Love by Wain
Time Passes by Ghost Cat
Weep, Beloved by Mischief
In Memoriam by Storie
MID-WEEK CHALLENGE: TAKING A STANZA
Your challenge, should you choose to participate:
This week is poetry only. In Spring, a not-so-young Immortal's fancy runs to thoughts of amore' (or just plain Springy stuff), and you've captured that Immortal's thoughts in a poem that embodies their emotions, their being, their soul. Put your heart into it! Make us laugh. Make us cry. Make us run for a hankie or the pepto bismol, but make us run.
Rhyming is optional.
DISCLAIMER: If you wish to have your entry archived, remember to include "MWC" in the title of your subject line.
MWC: A Matter of Perspective
A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE
One lifetime, fragile as a flower
Drooping in the summerís cruel glare,
First planted by a quick and careless hand
To be forgotten in its bower.
Born to live one rapid course of years,
To dream and work, love and take a mate,
They plunge into the rushing stream of life,
Drowning in hope, denying their fears.
Mortals never know Immortal fate,
How we sleepwalk slowly through the years,
How deeply infinity becomes us,
The marks of life expunged from our slate.
What would they do if they knew these things?
Iíve told a few mortals my secret.
Though they tried their best to understand it,
Their small souls escaped on frantic wings.
In the end, I always stood alone.
Mortal love, though strong, cannot endure
This endless journey beyond human time.
Long before I grasped it, love had flown.
Until at last I understood this
Fierce storm that strikes us when we battle,
The life-force that makes us cry out, helpless,
Arms outstretched in agony and bliss.
There is nothing else that will endure.
I vowed to hunt it, seek it out, then
Comfort myself with its ardent presence,
Use each severed life, the base and pure.
I learned to crave its strength, take it in,
Breathless and compliant, loving it
As mortals seek to love one another.
This is what their gods would have me win.
I no longer need a mortal friend.
I live far beyond their crippled days,
So mortals have no place within my world;
All other lives are means to an end.
MWC: In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love
Itís really a humongous drag
That Mac forgot his stupid bag
And asked for me to bring it here.
The campus isnít even near
The dojo or our side of town.
And I donít want to bring it down.
Iíll park my bike and cross the quad
Then find Macís class and, oh my God!
That girl there by the tennis courts
Sheís wearing, like, the shortest shorts.
The redheadís got the sweetest knees.
Her skirt just blew up in the breeze.
Who ever would have thought that Mac
Would hold this information back,
Or act in such a selfish way
With me, his favírite protťgť?
My legs are weak; my head, it whirls.
This college is jam-packed with girls!
What was that poem? How did it go?
Some "pretty maids all in a row"?
Between the dorms, laid cheek to bun
Are girls stretched out to catch some sun.
Iíd love to help the one in black
Rub sunscreen on her neighborís back.
I wonít be late if I should stop
To watch the blond adjust her top.
I find Macís building, climb the stair.
I canít believe what these girls wear!
The one whose pants have straining seams,
I think I met her in my dreams.
Macís class is on the second floor.
A beauty decorates his door.
Her legs can really hypnotize.
I think Iím drowning in her eyes.
Her friend is sending sultry looks.
You think theyíd let me haul their books?
In class, babes drape across their chair
And cross their legs and stroke their hair,
Then bend down low to show their charms.
Did someone pull the fire alarms?
This chance is much too good to pass.
I think I ought to take a class.
MWC (poetry always comes to me quicker) "Time Passes"
Another turn around the sun,
The seasons change,
Yet everything remains the same.
Winter releases its icy grip,
And yet my heart is still cold.
The Earth renews itself,
And so do I,
Though not by my own choice.
I feel so tired.
I do not remember
The gentle spring of my life,
Only the heat of summer.
Its fire in my soul
And the harvest of blood
On the cutting edge of my blade.
So long ago
So far away.
I feel so old.
I've lived so many lives
I don't remember who I am:
Murderer or healer?
Barbarian or scholar?
Where do I search for my lost self
In the past? I become lost there;
In the future? I have no faith to see it.
I sacrificed life in favour of survival
I feel so empty.
I armour my heart
In bands of cynicism.
I hide my soul
In layers of practicality.
In a thousand years
Only one person
Made me feel
And now she is gone.
I feel so alone.
They call me the Eldest;
They look to me for answers.
I have seen so much
So much I want to forget.
I've done so much
So much that I regret.
Is it too late
For me to change?
I feel--could that be... hope?
MWC - My first attempt
Posted By: Mischief <email@example.com>
Date: Tuesday, 8 May 2001, at 11:58 p.m.
This is my first try at a mid-week challenge. I hope you all like it. It's written in Haiku form.
What price does he pay
for this life that he lives?
He straddles two worlds
light and dark, heart, soul and sword;
a stranger in both.
He sharpens his sword
for there can be only one
in this fight he hates.
He feels them coming;
a fight to the death draws near.
Someone tell him "Why?"
Back straight, body strong,
every muscle and sinew tuned
to the clever mind.
He plays the Game now
like a grandmaster of chess;
every move well-planned.
But what is the cost?
This must be honorable:
a fight without shame.
The Other moves in,
circling and testing,
a wolf on the hunt.
Footwork like ballet,
arms powerful and mind clear.
Heart, soul, grace and sword.
Pushing, always there,
waiting for the fatal error.
And now for the kill.
The deathblow comes quick!
It's there in the Other's eyes...
A flood of terror.
And now he must wait.
Come, this awful orgasm!
Come tear me apart!
Smell the lightening!
Taste the thunder; let the heat
sear every cell!
Scream your lungs out and
bow your back until it breaks
from the Quickening!
And then it is gone,
leaving you there on the floor
alone once again.
He sharpens his sword
for it is his only friend,
a part of himself.
He waits for the next,
fighting only when he must
this duel he so hates.
Weep, beloved, weep.
Let me drink your tears away
and with them your pain.
(c) 2000 by Mischief
MWC: In Memoriam
My beloved TessaÖ
You were never afraid
Of those places deep inside
Where only I could go
You would keep faith and vigil
Until I returned
To find you waiting
At the doorway
Of my soul
I was blessed beyond all meaning
Of the word
So lightly spoken
Brought to life in your touch
In eyes that fearlessly met mine
And challenged me
To face my reflection
In the promise
Of your eyes
I wonder that you saw in me
Greater than I was
Potential you drew forth
Sculpted to reality
Your love a
Trial by fire
Forged in passion
Strength I never knew
Courage beyond what
Embodied with gentle grace
In a presence
Feminine and light
The beauty of Heaven cloaked
A spirit of giving
A heart of gold
An essence of steel
Love without compare
Was not enough
None other would stay
To face my demons
Drive the fear and anger
You ever drew me gently back
Held me safely
Against your heart
Knowing it was all
Years fled and marked you
In their wake
Maturity etched in the skin
Beauty engraved in the heart
Lines you loathed for my sake
My absence of age for yours
Or conquered by Death
Soon or late
I knew even as
I loved you
That I was only
Life goes on
And you are a part
Of all that I am
Or ever was
And yet will be
Burns for you
Such loss I regret
I will never forget
On my pillow
And if I love again
It will only be
To share the love
You gave to me
With someone who
Needs your love
As much as I
Lies in the translation
Nothing will stop
* * * * *